


The Crowned Heir's Hand in Marriage

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Attempt at Humor, Bad Poetry, Bad Writing, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Crack, Dialogue, Discord - Freeform, Incest, M/M, Metafiction, Murder, Non-Linear Narrative, Out of Character, Romance, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-15 20:32:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: The suitors aren't very happy, and some of them leave. Some more of them are getting murdered.“If the perpetrator's only concern is the other suitors,” Queen Trish reasons, “it can't be that much of a concern for our kingdom. We’ll catch them. Eventually.”“Darling, that's not—” Queen Lady stops herself, shaking her head. “Just stop talking.”(Well, I'll just worry about that plot point later on then. Wait, what do youmeanI already finished the story?! That can't be, I'm still writ—This is the summary?!)[DO NOT REPOST/REUSE MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION]





	The Crowned Heir's Hand in Marriage

**Author's Note:**

> **i want to be a cowboy baby!**  
>  ~~i think im funny.~~
> 
> **The Alpha & the Omega**  
> Dante, no.
> 
>  **I LOVE MY WIEF**  
>  donte no 
> 
> **i want to be a cowboy baby!**  
>  ~~i love you Bergil~~ (edited)

**[dont repost my fic w/o asking and letting me know first okay???]**

special thx to **BackInBlack** for the encouragement! xoxoxoxoxo 

and to  **kalina_ann** for the beta! 

* * *

There are two beautiful queens named Trish and Lady, they are very beautiful and very awesome. They also have two sons named Vergil and Dante. Their kingdom is full of wealth, history, and culture, and they are known far and wide. 

So when the twins turned eighteen years of age, it’s no surprise that suitors start to arrive, all seeking for the eldest son’s hand in marriage before his next birthday, when he will be formally announced as the crown prince to the throne. 

However, what was surprising is how many suitors there are, all proclaiming their love for the prince, and quite a lot of them come very far and from very high background. They have heard rumors and whispers of the young heir, word abilities, beauty, and heritage spreading throughout the land. Even a widowed king comes to the realm.

(“Hmm, a king? That sounds like a great wealthy marriage, don't you think, dear? And he's old, so he'll die within a decade. Vergil can just remarry.”

“Lady, the king is _four times_ his age. Vergil will not be pleased. Besides, I don't trust him.”)

Within a month of their eighteenth birthday, the kingdom has never welcome so many nobles and royalty before in its long five hundred year history, and Vergil _hates_ each and every one of them. The official records count the suitors at five hundred and seven, but like how an heir should, the eldest son engages with them politely and fairly, knowing that the future of the kingdom rests on his shoulders. 

The younger too hates them, mostly because while Vergil is attending his suitors, Dante is given less time with his brother, and that's very bad. They grew up together and have always been together; to see one without the other is like seeing a clock missing a hand, or a foot missing a leg. (Or is it the other way around?) Never had Vergil given his attention to other people this much before, and Dante complains about it. A lot. 

“When will they leave?” the younger twin asks, laying on his stomach under the covers of his brother’s bed. His room is right next door, but they have never really grown out of sharing one bed even to this day. “They’re so annoying.”

“Mother One and I are making plans,” Vergil replies without looking up from his book. His hair is not slicked back when in bed, his metal glasses resting lowly on his nose. “Just be patient and don't ruin it. I don't like them either, but I can't simply insult every family and kingdom by rejecting all of them. I’m forced to give them a chance.”

“But you haven't even spare me enough time for a fight! Those suitors are taking all your attention.”

The elder chuckles, closing his book finally, and he puts it away with his glasses on the bedside table. “You've taken to my bed every night long before they'd arrived,” he replies, blowing out the candle that lit up his chambers, and he slides down onto his back. “You know you are the only one allowed this close to me, Dante. To hold me and to kiss me? Your jealousy is unnecessary, you have nothing to lose.”

Dante grumbles, wrapping his arms around his brother, and he rests his head against Vergil’s chest. “I know,” he concedes, “but I miss you anyway.”

“Be patient, brother, and soon, we’ll be left alone as we were before.”

Vergil combs his fingers through Dante’s white hair, pressing a kiss on his other’s head, and like every night, they sleep.

Within a week, an announcement is made to the suitors.

“Thank you for your interest in my son,” the queen (which one, it doesn't matter) greets them all with a smile, Vergil standing by her. “Unfortunately, there are too many of you and only one of him. So, everyone who wishes to court Vergil for his hand in marriage must register officially as a suitor and sign contracts to ensure that this competition doesn't end too messy. Each one of you will be given the documents beforehand, and if you truly wish to be one of Vergil’s suitors, you have a week to do so after reading all the requirements and rules.

“I will tell you of two of the most important: one, as per tradition, candidates of Vergil’s spouse-to-be must be approved by his parents; and two, whoever Vergil chooses to be his consort exactly on his nineteenth birthday must be accepted and respected by every suitor. Got questions?”

(There are many questions, _but_ we’re not going to get into that. Instead, we’ll skip a bit ahead to when the queens make their rejections.)

“What about this one? Rodric of Barram?”

“Darling, he's twelve. His parents must have put him up to this. What about Prince Arthur of Camillia?”

“The report says he once rode his horse backwards into battle. He doesn't even know how to get on. I bet he can't even hold up a sword.”

“Alright, alright. Oh, what about that king?”

“ _Four times his age_.”

By the time the time the queens made their decision on who they'd allowed to court their son, the number of suitors have reduced to a quarter, most either because they weren't approve or because they were too lazy to register.

("Why did they even bother coming?" Vergil asks, rolling his eyes as he slips a suitor register into mother two's study.) 

Although, the number of suitors have dwindled down significantly, it also marks the start of the next few months being very, very, very, very, very, very, very,  _very_ cumbersome for Vergil whose stubbornness forced him to deal with all of them. 

"Prince Vergil, I've written you a song. Please listen." 

"Uhm, I rather we sit under a tree quietly." 

" _YOU MAKE MY HEART BUUUUURN LIKE A FURNACE! I PLAY GUITAR 'CAUSE I SPENT TIME TO LEARN IT!_ "

"Oh, dear lord."

" _YOU'VE GOT AN AH-AAAAAASS OF AN ANGEL! YOU'RE LIKE COTTAGE CHEESE ON A BAGEL!_ "

". . ." 

"Prince Vergil, Prince Vergil! Ignore that woman for I have written you poetry!” 

"You didn't have to. Really."

" _Your eyes. They are blue. And round._ "

" _NOBODY CAN COMPETE WITH YOU! DO YOU LIKE MOUNTAIN DEW?_ "

" _Your hands. They are long. And calloused._ "

"Is this what agony sounds like?"

" _SOUR APPLES ARE MY FAVORITE FLAVOR! APPLESAUCE, I LIKE TO SAVOR!_ "

" _Your hair. It is white. And slicked back._ "

" _DON'T YOU KNOW YOU'RE SUCH A HOTTIE! PRINCE VERGIL, YOU GOT QUITE THE BODY!_ "

" _Your legs. They are nice. And **thicc**._"

They are a few more verses to both the song and poem, but Vergil blacks out immediately, eyes wide, because he's pretty sure he  _heard_ how that was spelled.

("Mother, where's Vergil?" 

"With your your other mother, sweetheart."

"This late?"

"Yes. Vergil is in need of grief counseling."

"Wait? Who died?"

"No one. Just the arts.”

". . . _What?_ ")

Yes, so the next few months are particularly a bad time for Vergil who has to listen to more bad poetry and songs, all while accepting every invitation by his suitors as long as it fits in his already busy schedule of entertaining other suitors. He's been taken out to more dinners than he can care for, most of which are extravagant and filling.

(Vergil frowns deeply when he has a hard time buttoning his vest one morning and has it burnt by breakfast.) 

And the gifts, so much more than he'd ever want. Someone gifts him a  _pony_. He's a grown man by Vigrid's eyes, he should've been given a _horse_. There's countless boxes of jewelry he'll never use because he doesn't  _wear_ jewelry (save for one). The only ones he accepts well enough are practical things, like swords and polish, boots and gloves, and such and such. 

The lucky break in this routine would come half way before the due date on Vergil's chosen consort when murder strikes! The suitors. The first one is found in a brothel outside of the city walls. 

"Don't worry," Queen Lady assures her son's suitors, waving her hand "It's only one, and he wasn't exactly in the best of places. You'll be fine."

But then there's another murder a week later. And then another one two weeks after that. And another one and another one and another one. At this point, even the king is hard pressed to keep assuring that all those deaths are "mere accidents." 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Vergil says, lips thin.

“We'll start a full investigation,” Queen Trish says, rolling her eyes. "Dante, make sure your brother doesn't get stabbed in the process."

The younger twin immediately perks up, looking at his mother with hopeful eyes. "Like a bodyguard?" he asks carefully. 

"Like a babysitter," Queen Lady replies like a blunt object, and Vergil feels the full offense. 

"I can protect myself," the elder twin says, frowning. "I don't _need_ Dante." 

"Yes, yes, brother," Dante says, smiling, "but do you  _want_ Dante?" 

Vergil glares at him with a fury, but he does not say no. 

("Your majesties, another suitor has met his end in an  _unfortunate_ accident." 

"It's okay, Sudnum. We can just call it as it is now."

"What do you mean, Queen Trish?"

"That suitor, like all the others, has been murdered."

"Oh? Is that so? Who could've done such a thing?") 

Now with Dante given free reign to "protect" his brother, the suitors now have a more difficult time to court Vergil. Not that they had a chance anyway, but at least, it means Vergil no longer had to deal with them alone. 

"Prince Vergil, I have made you another song. Please listen."

"Oh, no, don't. _Please_." 

"Brother! Let's go take a walk through the gardens. Oh, one of your suitors. You should join us then." 

"Well, I was hoping not to be disturbed with Prince Vergil, Prince Dante. If you would give me a spare—"

"With a guitar? No, no, you got it wrong. Vergil doesn't like string instruments. He prefers woodwind ones, like the saxophone or the accordion."

"Those are not woodwind inst—"

"Prince Vergil, I've written you another poem!" 

("Of all my suitors to be murdered, why couldn't they be the first? Maybe I should have them executed, but Mother wouldn't approve.")

"Poetry? Is it in limerick form? Vergil loves those!" 

"Li—limerick form?" 

"Yeah, you know, fourteen sentences, ten half beats each, one paragraph?" 

"Sentences? Beats?  _Paragraph?_ "

"Why the accordion?” 

" _Paragraph?!_ "

"Yeah, is something wrong? You two suddenly look tired. Why don't you get out of the sun and I'll go entertain my brother for you. We'll see you later!" 

It's only just until they reached the gardens when Vergil could no longer hold his laughter in, and he would've fallen to the ground had Dante not caught him by the arm. Smiling like a fool, Dante pulls his brother the rest of the way to the flower maze which their mother prized. There, no one would see them, the walls higher than a man and a half.

Still amused, Vergil wraps his arms over Dante's shoulders, his laughter muffled when he presses his face against his brother's neck. "Paragraph," he says, sounding close to tears. "Oh, dear brother, I promise not to stab you for a week." 

"How merciful," Dante replies, embracing his brother back, and he leans in for a kiss, which Vergil accepts lovingly. 

Since then, the two take Dante's new status to their advantage, giving the rest of the suitors a run for their money. 

"My apologies, it's getting very late. I need to tuck my brother in. He gets restless without me."

(". . . I'll tuck  _you_  in. After I fu—") 

"Dinner tonight? Of course, just let me tell my parents that neither my brother nor I will be home tonight. Oh, another time? If that's what you like." 

"A boat ride at the lake? It's a good thing I'm coming, Vergil can't swim." 

("I  _can_ swim, Dante. Don't tell lies."

"I've been lying for you since we came out of the womb, brother. It's too late to turn back."

"Well, two can play at that game.") "I rather not, Dante is afraid of heights. He was once stuck up in a tree when we were young, and it was  _very_ truamatizing. He can barely stand to get on a horse."

(". . . I'm one of the most gifted riders in the kingdom. At least make it reasonable!"

"Fine.") "Oh, I hear my stupid little brother tripping on his own two feet again. He's quite clumsy, an imbecile. I'll be right back with you once I've helped him. It might take all day."

At some point afterwards, a good number of suitors just give and leave, much to Vergil's delight.

Dante is having a laugh too, doing everything he can to mess with the suitors, as well as getting back at his brother. 

"What do you mean I can't ride a horse?" he asks, frowning. 

"Well, I told one of the suitors that you can barely ride," Vergil explains, getting into his mare. "So it'd be odd if you ride too. The others will get suspicious, and we can't be caught lying. You'll just have to run on today's hunt, brother." 

"Run? With horses?!" 

Vergil simply chuckles, leading his mare to the hunting party. Dante grumbles, but he doesn't fight this, following after on foot. When they arrived,  Queen Trish gives the twins a raised eyebrow, and Dante gives her a wink return. 

To say the hunt was a bash is an overstatement. The suitors do all they could to seem impressive, but one suitor kept shooting the competition until the queen took the damn bow away out of irritation at the lack of skill.

Dante doesn't like that he had to run and walk, but Vergil slows for him consistently, perhaps to be nice or simply to look down smugly at the other. 

In the end, they waste three hours "hunting," ending when Dante gets bored and went after the fox—named Foxxy, get it?—himself, catching the little thing with his bare hands. Finally, the game is finally over. 

It surprises all the suitors, who didn't know that the other prince was also competing. It doesn't help that Vergil smiled at his brother's return, giving Dante a compliment. When the party arrive back to the castle, some more suitors profess their resignation, which only makes Vergil smile even more.

"Let me help you," Dante says, pulling Vergil down the waist without a warning, and he catches his brother in his arms with a grin. "Well, hello there, princess."

Vergil scowls and shoves his brother away, stomping back to the castle. 

And Dante doesn't stop there, much to Vergil's displeasure and embarrassment. The queens are both amused. 

"Oh, I need to prepare my brother's favorite seat. It's my fa— My lap. He needs the help with proper table manners sometimes." 

"Vergil, let me help you get off that foot stool." 

("Dante, I do not need you at all times!" 

"Yes, but do you _want_ Dante?"

"Stop referring to yourself in the third person!") 

"Riding is actually Vergil's favorite workout. It's a great view from below. You know, since I walk everywhere now." 

("Dante, I will tell Mother One on you." 

"Princess, stop glaring! You'll ruin your beautiful face!"

"If you don't stop it with your jokes, it will be  _your_ face.")

"We fight all the time. He's always at the other end of my sword." 

("You can sleep in your own bed tonight."

"Wait, what? Vergil!")

Then comes about two months before the twins' nineteenth birthday, and many of the suitors left over are demanding an answer to the murders which have not been delved into until now. 

"How many suitors have been murdered?" Queen Lady asks the court, expecting an answer. 

No one has an answer. (No one has an answer. No one has a—

Fuck.

I kinda forgot.

About the murders.

It was supposed to be a _huge_ plot point, but I got distracted. This is all Vergil's fault! 

And who decided to let me write this anyway? Is someone still reading this? Well, stop it right now! Because there's nothing but a happy ending to come, and we  _all_ know that nobody wants _that_! I'm warning you: if you don't like happy ending,  _stop reading!_ And then go down to the kudos bar because you made this far already so you might as well. Don't forget to comment!

Anyway, fast forward to a month later, deus ex machina!)

The day that the heir is announce his future spouse is here—his birthday, mind you—and all six surviving and remaining suitors wait in anticipation in the throne room. (Including the bad poet and the bad musician for some reason.) The two queens sit back on their chairs. Vergil is standing before them, dressed in a black suit. 

"Have you decided on your intended yet, Vergil?" Queen Lady asks formally. 

"Yes, Mother Two," the prince replies, taking a step forward, and he's holding a slip of paper in his hand. "I've decided. I decided a long time ago."

The entire court holds its breath in anticipation, the prince looking over the five suitors standing before him, and his glance turns to his right, a smile upturn on his lips.

"I choose Dante," Vergil announces, showing off to everyone the paper in his hand. A large golden seal ran across it, the symbol of the royal family, in approval. Dante's name is written in his elegant script. 

The court roars in cheer because who's better to love the heir than his brother, his twin, his other half, already dressed in white?

Of course, the suitors don't understand that, instead yelling and screaming revenge on pulling them around so much, but their contracts disallow that right and are therefore not a problem, now or in the future. (You can't break contracts, that's against the law. In this house, we respect the law, right? ~~No.~~ Right)

Dante is cheering too, resisting to the urge to jump his brother's bones right then and there. Instead, he just walks over and wraps himself around Vergil, taking his other by the hand and pressing it to his lips. 

"See, I told you you had nothing to worry about," Vergil tells his brother, and he steps closer, pulling out two pair of golden rings. "Foolish brother." 

"My bad, I won't doubt you again," Dante whispers, and he looks over to the queens, taking one of the rings from Vergil. "Mothers, would you mind getting this over with?" 

"You two will ruin this kingdom and everything we have done for it," Queen Lady says, but she stands. "Do you, Vergil, take Dante as your one and only?" 

"I do," Vergil says, slipping his ring onto Dante's finger. 

"And do you, Dante, take Vergil as your one and only?" 

"I do," Dante says, slipping his ring onto Vergil's finger. They clasp hands, looking at each other adoringly. 

"By the power invested in me, Queen Lady of Red Grave, I now pronounce you crowned prince and consort. You may now ki—"

"STOP THE WEDDING!"

The large wooden doors of the court room burst open, the newest servant Sudnum barging in. 

"What now?" Vergil says, rolling his eyes. He was  _this close_ to sealing the deal and never having to see another suitor for the rest of his life. 

"I am not who I seem!" Sudnum shouts, and he pushes up his messy bangs to reveal a  _third_ eye. "I am King Mundus of the Underworld! And I'm here to take Prince Vergil away! It was I who have been killing all the suitors!"

(See? Case closed.) 

"Hey, you're not supposed to be here," Queen Trish says, rolling her eyes because  _someone_ wasn't following the rules. "We kicked you out! You're too old!" 

Mundus laugh, sounding like chipped sunglasses echoing off the walls. "You can't tell me what to do, I'm a king," he says. "I do what I want, and what I want is to steal Prince Vergil for my own. He will make a lovely bride, and together we shall rule this entire land! There is no one worthier than I to do so, now bow to me, loyal subjects.

Vergil sneers just as Dante stifles a laugh, unable to hold back his giggle. The older glares at the younger. 

"Sorry," Dante says quietly. "This is just like a villain kidnapping a princess, and  _you're_ the princess." 

"I don't think we're right for each other," Vergil replies humorlessly. 

"Oh, shut up and kiss me."

Dante pulls Vergil closer, and their lips meet in desire and admiration. Finally, the wedding is over, and they are finally married.

("I told you I'd marry you one day."

"Yes, but it wouldn't happen if I wasn't for me.")

They're still lip locked when Mundus, the king from Hell, screams angrily and runs towards them, raising a hand to strike them.

But that's okay, the two slipping a hand behind each other's back. Synchronized, they pull out Ivory and Ebony, slipped under their belts, and without looking, or caring, they aim directly at the oncoming attack and pull the trigger.

("Don't you dare say—"

"JACKPOT!")

And they live happily ever after. The end.

* * *

thx for reading!!! it was a bash!!! if you like this plz check out my twitter [AKnightOfAGoodKing](https://twitter.com/kappachyun?s=09)!

dont forget to comment and like ;)

**Author's Note:**

>  **The Alpha & the Omega**  
> Brother, you're . . . bad at this.
> 
>  **i want to be a cowboy baby!**  
>  hey i tried!
> 
>  **I LOVE MY WIEF**  
>  not even a stroy  
> just an outline
> 
>  **i want to be a cowboy baby!**  
>  uh bitch?  
> its so a story!  
> a luv story!!!!!! >:( (edited)
> 
>  **The Alpha & the Omega**  
> You _can't_ just deus ex machina a plot point out of the story. That's just a plothole.
> 
>  **i want to be a cowboy baby!**  
>  you dont appreciate me!! this server is so toxic!!  
> its only 3k words but it took forever to write this!!!  
> i changed my mind four times!!  
> im not bad youre just mean!!! QQQQAQQQQ  
>  _runs away weeping_
> 
>  **The Alpha & the Omega**  
> He really did run out crying.  
> I'll be back.
> 
>  **I LOVE MY WIEF**  
> . . .  
> why do we even have a discrod together


End file.
